


A Hazy Shade of Winter

by blackberry_jam



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: ...yet, Child Abuse, Grace is the superhero everyone needs, Human Grace Hargreeves, Other, Reginald Hargreeves sucks, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, apparently adopting kids you don’t want is a bad idea, literal chaos but you try raising seven six year olds by yourself, okay they have powers now, the kids don't have powers, they do love each other (but there is seven of them so fighting is inevitable), wholesome sibling relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24243892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackberry_jam/pseuds/blackberry_jam
Summary: The children all stayed silent, leaning as far back in their chairs as possible, fear in their eyes.“Answer me!” He yelled.“You didn’t tell us we couldn’t.” Five said, bravely.“What was that?” Reginald asked, standing up and walking over to Five.“You didn’t tell us we couldn’t.” Five repeated, ignoring the furious head shaking and scared glances his other siblings were giving him. “You made mum do it.“Do I not do enough for you?” Reginald shouted, leaning right into Five’s face. “Is keeping you here not enough?”
Relationships: Grace Hargreeves & Everyone, Hargreeves Siblings
Comments: 45
Kudos: 193





	1. In which we meet the children

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for clicking on this fic!
> 
> I’ve been really wanting to read a fic about the young Hargreeves, sonI decided to write one myself. I’ll update it again soonish, hopefully.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter One**

**In which we meet the children**

  
Sir Reginald Hargreeves had always been an avid collector of the peculiar, and so when he heard about the occurrence of the 43 mothers, who hadn’t been pregnant before, and their newly born babies he just had to have some for himself. After many trips to all parts of the globe, he returned with seven children. To his dismay, after countless tests, he found all seven children to be completely normal. He was disgusted with them, his plans of a higher class demolished. Unfortunately for him, none of the mothers would take them back and Reginald Hargreeves, an old, fun hating man was stuck with seven children, all exactly the same age. In an attempt to distance himself further from the children, he refused to name them, instead giving each a corresponding number. Determined to spend as little time as possible with them, he hired a nanny, to act as their mother.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Mum!” Number One called, racing down the staircase. “Number Two took my craft knife!”

“N-no I didn’t!” Number Two called, close behind. “You said I could bor-borrow it.”

“No, I was using it for my model airplane!” Number One cried, turning on his heel to face his brother.

“Boys.” Grace said, soothingly. “Next time, just ask me and I’ll get you another one.” 

“Okay, Mum.” Number One said, sheepishly.

“Sorry, One.” Number Two said.

Grace smiled, sweetly at her two wards. “Why don’t you go and play with your other siblings? I’ll come and help you with your airplane soon, One.”

“Okay.” Number One said, a grin on his face as he grabbed his brother's hand. “Come on, Two.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“What’re you guys doing?” Number One asked, sticking his head into the attic and spotting his other five siblings.

Three was standing up on a stepladder, trying to hang a thin sheet over the curtain rod while Seven stood below, holding the ladder in place. Four stood in the middle, tangled in a string of fairy lights whilst Six stood over by the power board, trying to plug in the said lights. Five stood a little distance back, instructing his siblings on where to put things.

“We’re making a fort, wanna help?” Number Three said, excitedly. Number One nodded, vigorously, climbing the ladder and stepping into the room, Two close behind him.

“Four, hang the lights there.” Six instructed, pointing to the corner of the fort.

“No.” Five protested. “You don’t put the lights up until we’ve finished the main structure.”

“But they’re really pretty.” Four said, gazing at the string of lights.

“I haven’t even turned them on yet, Four.” Six said, still sitting by the power socket.

“What can I he-help with?” Two asked.

“You can hold this ladder.” Seven said. “I’m bored of it.”

“Okay!” Two cheered, racing over and taking Seven’s place at the base of the step ladder.

“I’m going to get blankets.” Seven cried. “Can someone come with me?”

“I’ll come!” Three shouted, dropping the sheet in her excitement.

“Three!” Four complained as the sheet fluttered down over him. “You were supposed to hang it up.”

“Oops.” She said, jumping to the ground. “Sorry.”

Four rolled his eyes, untangling himself from the lights and taking Three’s place on top of the ladder, straining to hang the sheet. Three and Seven leapt down the ladder leading out of the attic, racing down the hallway to find as many blankets and pillows as possible.

“Four, you have to fold it over the curtain rail.” Five instructed. 

“Like this?” Four asked, wrapping the end of the sheet over the curtain rail. 

“Yeah.” Five said.

“Can we do the lights now?” Four asked, jumping off the stepladder.

“What about that side?” One asked, pointing to the lopsided end of the fort.

“Put the chair underneath it.” Five suggested. 

One nodded, seriously, and pushed one of the dusty chairs, scraping it across the dirty floorboards, towards the sheet’s edge. He lifted the corner, draping it over the back of the chair. 

“Now you can do the lights.” Five said.

“Yay!” Four cheered, grabbing the string of lights and hanging them over the corners of the blanket fort.

Six grabbed the end of the plug, pushing it into the socket. The lights lit up, illuminating the dim attic. The five boys cheered, looking over their handiwork. There was a thumping of footsteps as Three and Seven returned, their arms laden with thick blankets. 

“We got a ton.” Three explained.

“Dad has a whole cupboard full, did you know?” Seven said, excitedly. 

The two girls threw the piles of blankets into their fort, before crawling in themselves, the others quickly following. 

“I brought the fairytale book.” Seven said, pulling the book from under the blanket pile.

“And mum let me have some biscuits!” Three exclaimed, producing a tin full of choc-chip cookies.

The others cheered, happily as Three handed out the biscuits and Seven opened the thick book, taking in turns to practice their reading.

The day passed quickly as the seven children spent their time up the attic.

“Do you think dad will let us sleep up here?” Six asked, a half eaten biscuit in his lap.

“No.” Five scoffed, passing the book back to Seven. “Dad never lets us do anything.”

“But mum m-might?” Two suggested.

“Let’s ask!” One cheered, grabbing Two’s arm and pulling him out of the fort and down the ladder.

“I’m thirsty.” Four complained.

“Go and get some water then.” Five said.

“But the kitchen’s really far away.” Four groaned.

“Then you’ll just have to die of thirst.” Five grinned, crossing his arms. 

“Four’s not gonna die, is he?” Seven asked, nervously.

“If he doesn’t go get some water then he probably will.” Five said, matter of factly.

“Four, go get water.” Seven urged, her eyes wide with fear.

“Maybe I’ll just sit here and die.” Four grinned.

“No, no, no.” Seven cried, her eyes brimming with tears. “You have to go get some water.”

Four shook his head, determinedly.

“It’s okay, Seven.” Six said, reassuringly. “Four’s not going to die.”

“But Five said he would.” Seven sniffled. “And Five’s really smart.”

“He’s just joking.” Three said, wrapping an arm around her sister and shooting a glare at Five.

“No, I’m not.” Five said, shaking his head. “I really mean it.”

Seven’s bottom lip quivered and she began to whimper. Footsteps came from the ladder as One and Two appeared again, their mother in tow.

“What’s wrong, Seven?” Grace asked, kneeling down on the dirty floorboards.

“Five said that Four’s going to die!” Seven hiccuped, burying her face in her mother's skirt.

“Oh, Seven.” Grace said, patting her daughter’s head reassuringly. “Four’s not going to die.”

“Are you sure?” Seven asked, looking her mother in the eyes.

“Of course, darling.” Grace said, wrapping her in a hug.

“Can we have a sleepover?” Four asked, excitedly, ignoring his upset sister.

“I’ll have to talk to your father.” Grace said, slowly.

Four visibly deflated. “Oh, okay.”

“But, I'm sure he’ll say yes.” Grace smiled, not wanting to see her children upset.

The children all smiled, One and Two shoving to get back into the fort, Three wrestling with Four and Five over the last biscuit, Six pulling the fairytale book towards him and Seven wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Grace smiled, fondly at her children as she stood up and made her way back down the ladder, leaving the children to continue playing.

“It’s my turn to read.” Six said, turning the page in the book.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Sir.” Grace said, cautiously approaching Reginald Hargreeves in his study. “The children were wondering if they would be allowed to have a sleepover in the attic. They’ve built a lovely little cubby house.”

Reginald Hargreeves didn’t even look up, instead continuing to write furiously in his notebook. “No.”

“Oh, please.” Grace asked again. “They’ll be so upset.”

“They’ll live.” Sir Hargreeves said, curtly.

Grace sighed, turning on her heel and shutting the doors of the study behind her. She knew how disappointed her children would be.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


It was always chaotic in the evenings, trying to get seven six year olds to go to bed.

“Okay, clean your teeth and then into bed.” Grace called, clapping her hands to get the children’s attention.

One and Two barreled past her, calling names at each other as they raced each other to their respective bedrooms. 

Three was standing on her bed, shouting at Four to “stop stealing her skirts” and that she “doesn’t care how pretty they made him feel, they were her skirts and he should get some of his own.”

Seven had her violin out and was playing an upbeat tune as Five and Six jumped around her bedroom, singing along to the song.

“One and Two, please be nice to each other.” She called, making her way down the hall. “I’ll be in to tuck you in soon.”

“Okay, Mum!” Both children called.

“Three, get into bed.” Grace yelled. “Four, stop taking her things without asking. Once I’ve dealt with the others, I’ll come and say good night, you’d better be in bed!”

“We will be!” They both chorused.

Grace approached Seven’s bedroom where the violin music was still being played and Five and Six were still bouncing around.

“Children.” Grace said, standing in the doorway, her hand on her hips.

Seven dropped the violin bow on the bed behind her, trying to hide the violin behind her back as her brothers blinked innocently up at their mother.

Grace smiled. “Come along, boys. Get your pyjamas on, Seven, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Okay mum.” Seven grinned, pulling the violin case out and dropping her violin into it.

Grace smiled at her daughter, putting her arms around the shoulders of Five and Six, leading them out of the room.

“Good night, Seven!” Five and Six called in unison.

“Good night!” Seven called back, dropping her blazer to the floor and tugging off her shoes.

Grace smiled, softly as she shepherded the two boys to their bedrooms. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Number Three awoke to the creaking of floorboards and the hushed giggling of Number Five, Six and Seven.

“Three.” Seven said, excitedly. “We’re going to have a sleepover, wanna come?”

“Mum said we couldn’t.” Three said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

“No, dad said we couldn’t.” Five corrected. “And, we just won’t go in the attic. We can sleep in my room.”

“Okay!” Three said, hopping out of her bed, her eyes wide with excitement.

Five, Six and Seven grinned as they tiptoed out of the room, Three at their heels. They quietly walked through the dark halls, making their way to Four’s room.

  
  


“Four!” Three whisper-shouted. “Wake up!”

Four sat up, squinting in the darkness. “What?”

“We’re having a sleepover.” Six explained. “Come with us.”

“Yay!” Four cheered, and was instantly shushed by his other siblings. “Sorry.” He whispered, happily, leaping out of his bed and following the others out of the room.

  
  
  


“Two!” Five hissed, shaking his brother awake. “Two, get up.”

“Why aren’t you in bed?” Two asked, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Mum said to go to sleep.”

“We’re having a sleepover.” Three explained. 

“Wanna come?” Six asked.

Two paused, thinking for a moment. “Okay.”

The others smiled, turning back to the door and creeping into One’s room.

“One.” Four said. “One, One, One, One.”

One groaned, rolling over to face his siblings. “Go away.”

“Don’t be grumpy.” Two scolded.

“Go back to bed.” One said.

“We’re having a sleepover.” Seven explained.

“Come with us!” Six said, excitedly.

“No.” One said, firmly. “Dad didn’t want us to have a sleepover. He said no.”

“We’re having one either way. You can come with us or not.” Five said, crossing his arms. 

One shook his head again.

“Please, One.” Three asked, sweetly.

“Fine.” One said, standing up. “But we can’t tell dad.”

“Yay!” Three cheered as the others all grinned.

  
  
  
  


The seven Hargreeve children were sitting, cross legged in a circle on the rug in Five’s bedroom.

“Read the one about the brother and sister in the woods!” Seven pleaded.

“We r-read that one all the time, Seven.” Two complained. “Read the one about the prin-princess with the really long hair.”

“No.” Four protested. “That ones boring. I want to read the one about the sleeping princess.”

“No, One, read the one about the beanstalk and the giant.” Five argued.

“I want to read the one about the frog.” Six added.

“Let’s read the one about the old lady and the apple.” Three suggested.

“No.” One said. “I’m reading so I get to pick.” 

The others groaned. 

“You always read the same one.” Five complained.

“No, I don’t.” One argued.

“Yes, you do.” Two said.

“You always read the one about the little gnome man with the really long name.” Seven said, earnestly.

“Yeah, Rumple something.” Six said.

“Rumplestiltskin.” One said. “And I don’t always read that one.”

“Yes, you do.” Four said, enjoying winding up his brother.

“No, I don’t.” One said, defensively.

“You do!” Four giggled.

“I don’t!” One cried before being hurriedly shushed.

“Dad will hear us!” Five scolded.

“I’m going back to bed, this sleepover is boring.” One said, standing up.

“No, no.” Six said. “Don’t leave.”

“Why not? I think you’re supposed to sleep at sleepovers and we’re not sleeping.” One said.

“We can go to sleep.” Six assured. “It’ll be boring if you leave.”

“Fine.” One said, sitting back down. “But only if we go to sleep.”

“Okay.” Five sighed, standing up and opening his cupboard, pulling out a pile of spare blankets whilst Seven and Two pulled the duvet off the bed.

Five dumped the blankets on the floor and the children pounced on them, spreading out and creating a small nest. Seven and Two dragged the duvet over, draping it over the best and crawling in.

“Good night, everyone.” One said, burrowing under the blankets.

“Good night.” Six said back.

“Four, get off my hair, you're pulling it.” Three said, trying to get comfortable.

“Whose foot is this?” Four asked, kicking someone under the blankets.

“Ow, stop it, Four.” Seven cried.

“Ssh.” One said, trying to get his siblings to go to sleep.

“You, ssh.” Five said back, causing his siblings to giggle.

“Just go to sleep.” One said, tiredly. “I don’t want dad to find out.”

“Okay.” Two whispered, laying down and closing his eyes. “Good night.”

“Good night, Two.” The others chorused. The whispers and giggles got quieter and quieter as the children slowly drifted off to sleep.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Grace, sitting on the sofa in the painting room, could hear the children upstairs and she knew that they were all together. She knew it was against her programming to let them disobey Mr Hargreeves, but she also knew that he was cruel to them and that they were only children, they should be allowed to have their fun. She sighed, placing her cross stitch on the seat next to her and standing up. However, instead of going to tell off the children, she found herself in the library. She looked around the shelves, picking out a book and heading towards the dining room, picking up a small notebook and pen on the way. She pulled out a chair and sat down, opening up the notebook and reading the title of the book. _10,000 Baby Names._ She knew that this wasn’t any way to grow up and she knew had to do something about if she wanted anything to change.


	2. In which kids act like kids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I’m back again. 
> 
> There is a little bit of child abuse in this chapter, so if you don’t want to read that, just be aware.
> 
> Thanks for commenting and the kudos!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter Two**

**In which kids act like kids**

The children awoke early in the morning, tiptoeing back to their own rooms so as not to raise any suspicion from their father. By the time their mother rang the breakfast bell, all seven children were tucked back into their own beds. They raced downstairs, jumping into their chairs and eating their breakfast without complaint. They enjoyed their sleepover, and nothing could bring down their moods, not even Seven’s hatred for oatmeal. Grace smiled at her children as they giggled and chatted over the top of one another. 

“Today, Six and I are going to play dress up.” Four claimed, happily. “And Mum said we can borrow her heely-shoes.”

“I never agreed to that.” Six said, furrowing his brow.

Four only smirked in reply.

“Can I practice my violin today, Mum?” Seven asked, licking the last of the oatmeal out of her bowl. “I want to show you my new song.”

“We can start a band!” Three cheered, picking up Seven’s discarded spoon and drumming loudly on the edge of her bowl.

“Stop, Three.” Five complained. “That sounds _terrible_.”

Three giggled, leaning over the table to play the drums on Five’s bowl. Seven joined in, clapping her hands as Four began to drum with his hands on the tabletop. Two jumped up from his chair, dancing around the dining room. Six crossed the room, grabbing two saucepan lids from the kitchen drawer, hitting them together. One started to sing, loudly and off key as the others giggled. Five, not wanting to be left out, joined in, stomping his feet on the hardwood floors. The children continued making a racket, as Grace watched, fondly from the landing. The ‘music’ suddenly cut out as Reginald Hargreeves appeared from the top of the stairs.

“What is this nonsense?” He asked, his loud voice booming around the now silent room.

The children froze.

“We’re starting a band, dad.” One said, hoping his father would give them some attention. 

“Well, stop it.” Mr Hargreeves ordered. “I’m trying to work.”

“Okay, dad.” One said, disappointment in his voice. “Sorry.”

Mr Hargreeves grunted in response, turning his back on the children and walking back into his study. The children’s good moods were instantly killed and they all picked up their dishes, placing them in the sink and going their separate ways. Grace sighed, heading into Mr Hargreeves office.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Six, I want to wear the red ones.” Four said, sitting on his bed already wearing Three’s skirt and feather boa.

“Did you ask Three if you could borrow her clothes?” Six asked, cornering his eyes at his brother.

“No, but she won’t mind.” Four said, waving him off.

“I think she will mind, actually.” Six said.

“Oh, well.” Four said shrugging his shoulders.

Six sighed, picking up the red high-heels and handing them to his brother. Four clapped his hands, happily, slipping his small feet into the too-big shoes. He tried to stand up, wobbling with the extra height.

“Maybe you shouldn’t walk in them.” Six suggested, rationally.

“But I want to.” Four whined, so Six agreed, slipping his arm under his brother’s to help support him.

Four grinned as he stood up and, with Six’s help, walked into the hallway.

“Look! Look, Six!” He cheered. “Let me go, I want to walk by myself.”

“Okay.” Six said, unsurely dropping his arm and moving away.

“Look! Look!” He cried again. “I can do it!”

Six smiled at him, giving him an encouraging thumbs up.

Four raised his arms above his head, letting out a happy shout. Six clapped. Four tried to spin, like he’d seen the models in Three’s magazine do, but he tripped, falling forwards down the staircase, screaming as he fell. Six gasped as his brother fell, rushing down the stairs towards him. 

“Four!” He cried. “Are you okay?”

Four groaned, rubbing his jaw, but giving his brother a shaky thumbs up.

They both heard a door click, and a Six looked up to see his father standing on the landing, disapprovingly shaking his head before turning and disappearing down the hall. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


One and Three were inside their fathers study. They weren’t supposed to be in there, and they both knew it.

“Three, why are we in here?” One hissed, keeping watch at the door.

“I wanna know why dad spends so much time in here.” Three answered, rummaging through the drawers in the desk. “Oo, a little remote thingy.” She shrugged, pocketing the device and continuing to rummage through the papers. “I can’t really read this stuff.” She sighed.

“Hurry, dad will be back soon.” One urged.

“Look, One.” Three called, drawing her brother's attention from the hall. “A locked box.”

“Cool.” One cried, running over, his lookout position forgotten.

“Look, numbers.” Three pointed, giggling. “All of our names are here!”

One looked to where she was pointing, and began to laugh as well.

“Number One and Number Three.” A loud voice said. The two siblings turned around and were met with their father's furious face. “What are you doing in here?”

“We were—” One began.

“Get out!” Reginald Hargreeves screamed and the children got to their feet, rushing out of the study. “You are not permitted in here, under any circumstances.”

Both children nodded, fear in their eyes as their father slammed the door in their faces.

* * *

  
  
  


“Where does mum keep the peanut butter?” Five called from the pantry.

“Why do you want the pe-peanut butter?” Two asked, sitting on the kitchen bench.

“So I can make the best sandwich in the world.” Five explained. “Seven is trying to find a knife.”

“I’ll cut it!” Two offered. 

“Is this knife okay?” Seven asked, holding a butter knife up.

“No, you need a br-bread knife.” Two explained, jumping off the counter and joining Seven at the cutlery drawer.

“Like this one?” Seven asked, pulling out a bread knife and pretending to stab her brother with it.

“Yeah, but don’t wave it a-around.” Two said, taking the knife out of his sister’s hands and putting it on the bench. Seven pouted.

“I found it!” Five called, dropping the jar of peanut butter on the bench.

“I don’t understand how peanut butter makes the best sandwich ever.” Seven said, squinting at the jar.

“It’s only good if you have it with… marshmallows!” Five cried, dropping the packet of marshmallows on the bench beside the jar.

“That so-sounds gross.” Two said and Seven nodded her agreement.

“Only to you uncultured people.” Five said, opening the breadbox. “Here, cut six slices.”

“That’s three sandwiches!” Seven cheered.

Two nodded, seriously, picking up the knife and cutting six slices of bread.

Seven picked up the discarded butter knife, digging it into the peanut butter and spreading it thickly on each slice of bread. 

Five took three of the slices and sprinkled a generous helping of marshmallows on them before squashing the top slices of bread on.

“I’ll get some plates!” Seven said, opening the cabinet and pulling out three plates.

There was a thumping noise and Four appeared, sliding down the stairs. He groaned, rubbing his jaw as Six rushed towards him. In her shock, Seven dropped the stack of plates, and they fell to the floor, smashing. She gasped, looking around for a broom as her brothers ran towards Four and Six. There was a loud yelling and Three and One rushed down the staircase, looking scared.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


The children were all together in the attic, hiding from their father and talking in hushed voices. Four’s jaw was bandaged and he had fun showing off his injury whilst Six told the story of how it happened, tactfully leaving out the bit about ‘wearing Three’s clothes.’ They stayed up there all afternoon, until they heard the dinner bell ringing. They all leapt up, sliding across the floorboards in their socks towards the dining room, racing each other to the dinner table, skidding to a stop as they saw their father standing by the head of the table.

“What’s dad doing here?” Four whispered, wincing as his jaw throbbed. “He never eats with us.”

Their father nodded at them and they all took their places around the table, sharing nervous glances. 

“Sit.” Reginald said, and the children pulled out their chairs, staring nervously at their father as their mother placed plates in front of each of them.

“What do you have to say for yourselves?” Reginald Hargreeves shouted, slamming his hand down onto the table, startling the children.

The children all looked blankly at him.

“All day you have been on my nerves. At breakfast you were making a horrendous noise, I found Number One and Number Three in my study, which you are all forbidden to enter, Number Four and Six were playing around on the stairs, which resulted in injury and Number Two, Number Five and Number Seven, were mucking around in the kitchen. And then, I return to my study to try and get some work done, and what do I see on the security footage?” He snarled. “Last night, I told you that you were not permitted to have a sleepover, and what did you do?”

The children all stayed silent, leaning as far back in their chairs as possible, fear in their eyes.

“Answer me!” He yelled.

“You didn’t tell us we couldn’t.” Five said, bravely.

“What was that?” Reginald asked, standing up and walking over to Five.

“You didn’t tell us we couldn’t.” Five repeated, ignoring the furious head shaking and scared glances his other siblings were giving him. “You made mum do it.”

“Do I not do enough for you?” Reginald shouted, leaning right into Five’s face. “Is keeping you here not enough?”

“You couldn’t even be bothered to give us names.” Five said, his voice shaking.

Reginald let out a cry, lifting his hand and smacking Five across the face. Five let out a gasp, staggering backwards and falling to the floor. The other six children gasped, Seven and Six instantly jumping to the floor to comfort their brother. Reginald took a step back, throwing a disgusted look at the three children sitting on the floor and glaring at the four still sitting at the table, nervously staring at their father. 

“What do you say?” He hissed.

“Sorry!” One cried. “He’s sorry!”

“I didn’t ask you, Number One.” Reginald spat.

One hung his head, shrinking back into his chair.

“I want to hear Number Five say it.” Reginald demanded, turning back to the three children cowering on the floor.

Five shook his head, determinedly.

“Alright then.” Reginald said, and in one swift movement leant down, pulled Six and Seven up by their collars. They both let out a cry as their father dragged them up. 

“Say it, Five, please.” Seven squealed, desperately.

“Please, Five.” Six begged.

Reginald adjusted his grip on the children, squeezing their arms as he glared down at Five.

Five gritted his teeth and stood up, a look of determination in his eyes.

Reginald saw what was happening and let go of Six, raising his hand, balling his fist. 

Six scrambled to his feet, ducking behind the table.

Five charged at his father. 

“Five, stop!” Three called, from her place at the table.

Reginald spun, quickly putting Seven’s body in front of his own. Five, not noticing his father's movement, rammed his body into Seven. Seven gasped, her body going limp as her father dropped her. She got to her feet as fast as possible, grabbing Five’s arm and pulling him away from their father. One and Two got to their feet, beckoning to Five and Seven, shouting at them to “come here, quickly.” Three leapt from her chair, Four right behind her, rushing to Six’s side and pulling him over to their other siblings. 

Time seemed to slow down as Reginald made his way towards the seven children, cowering against the wall. Just as the children thought he would reach them, he stopped in his tracks.

“Reginald.” Grace said, stepping into the kitchen.

Reginald Hargreeves looked to where her voice came from.

“Grace.” He said curtly. “I have unfinished business here, please leave us alone.”

The children froze, their eyes wide with fear as they stared at their mother.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Grace said.

“You will do what I say.” Reginald ordered.

“My highest priority is to care for these children.” Grace said, calmly. “And to do that, they need to come with me.”

Reginald scowled, turning back to the children, leaning in and whispering a threat to them. “Don’t disobey me again.”

The children all froze, their eyes wide with fear as Reginald turned on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen.

Grace rushed over to them, her voice as calm as ever. “Okay, darlings, I’m going to need you to go to your bedroom and pack all the things you really like into your backpacks, then we can go to the park.”

The children all nodded, their hearts still racing. 

“Imagine that you were leaving this house forever, and pack all the things you’d want to keep, okay?” Grace said, shepherding the children towards the staircase. “I’ll come and get you soon and we can go for a walk.”

The children nodded again, seriously, before rushing up the stairs, into One’s bedroom.

“Are you okay, Five?” One asked, quickly, crossing the room to inspect the red mark on his face.

“I’m fine.” Five said, squirming away from his brother's touch. 

“What about you?” Three asked, wrapping her arms around her sister.

“I’m okay.” Seven said, quietly.

“Why do you th-think we have to pack our things?” Two asked.

“Mum said, we’re going to the park.” Three answered, quickly, hoping the others couldn’t tell she was hiding something. They couldn’t, except for One.

“I’m going to go pack.” Six said. “Then we can go to the park.”

“Me too.” Seven said, turning towards the door.

“Wait f-for me.” Two called, chasing his siblings out the door.

“I’m coming.” Five cried.

Four nodded his agreement, still rubbing his bandaged jaw, following Five out into the corridor.

One stayed behind, turning towards his sister. “Why are we really packing?”

“Don’t tell the others.” Three said, quietly. “But I think mum’s taking us away.”

One’s eyes widened. “Like, forever?”

Three nodded, seriously.

“Why?” One asked.

“Because of dad.” Three answered, unsure as to why One didn’t understand. “Because he’s really mean.”

“He’s not mean.” One said, defensively. 

“One.” Three said, slowly. “He hit Five.”

“He, he was just angry.” One excused.

“He’s always mean, One.” Three sighed. “When was the last time he ever did anything nice with us?”

“He ate dinner with us on our birthday.” One said.

“Only because mum forced him to. He didn’t even speak to us.” Three said.

“He spoke to me.” One said. “He helped me with my airplane.”

“Well, you were the only one he was nice to.” Three sighed, turning on her heel and leaving the room.

One sighed, looking around his bedroom. This wouldn’t be the last time he ever saw it, would it? He wanted to believe that Three wasn’t right, but he knew, deep down, that she was. Maybe leaving was the best option?

  
  


* * *

  
  


Grace hurried along the corridor, stepping onto the landing where the pictures were hung. She sighed, sadly, looking over at all of the paintings she had come accustomed to, knowing that this would be the last time she would see them. For years she had sat here, night after night, either working on her cross stitch or on her escape plan. Mr Hargreeves was a paranoid person, so he kept all of his money in a locked safe in his office. It wasn’t hard for Grace to guess the code, and once she had it, she could take a little bit of money here and there, not enough for him to notice it missing, but enough for her to add to her ‘going away’ fund. Today was the last straw, and Grace knew that the children couldn’t spend another minute in this house. Grace knew that she didn’t have a parental or guardianship right to the children, and knew that taking them away could get her into real trouble. But that wasn’t what she was worried about. She what would happen to the children if something happened to her. But after today, she knew that she had to leave now, knew that anything would be better than living under the same roof as Reginald Hargreeves. She sighed, reaching underneath the couch and pulling out the envelope taped underneath it. She tucked it into her cardigan before picking up the book of baby names, the notebook and her half finished cross stitch of the moon. She threw one last glance at the paintings on the wall before leaving. She was willing to do anything to save these children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I know Klaus’ accident actually happened when he has a little older, but I decided to bring it forwards.


	3. In which children really love bunk beds

**Chapter Three**

**In which children really love bunk beds**

Grace waited until Mr Hargreeves had retreated back into his study before she hurried back up the stairs. As she had expected, the children had packed their limited possessions. One had packed up his model airplanes, carefully wrapping them in tissue paper before placing them at the bottom of his bag. Two had hastily tossed in the craft knife, that he may or may not have stolen from his brother, and had thrown in his blanket, the soft polar fleece one. Three had hunted through her room, searching for her feather boa, but hadn’t been able to find it, so instead she put in her magazine collection and the shiny jewellery her mum had given her. Four, without a second thought, threw in Three’s feather boa and his mum's heely shoes, even though his jaw still hurt from falling down the staircase. Five found his lucky pencil, dropping it in beside the maths workbooks he had been completing. Deciding his bag was still too empty, he planned to take the peanut butter jar and the packet of marshmallows from the kitchen. Six spent some time debating over the bookshelf in his room, but in the end, decided to only take his favourite books. Thinking ahead, he went to Five’s room, picking up the discarded fairytale book and making space for it in his bag. Seven took her violin, putting the sheet music into her backpack and digging through her drawers, pulling out the pair of socks she kept her valuables in. Grace went to each child’s room in turn, opening up the wardrobes and getting each of her children a spare uniform. She hurried them down to the front door, telling them that they were playing a game, that they had to be silent. After they were all out, standing excitedly on the front steps, she turned back to the house, shutting the doors and glancing over the building she had spent the past six years in. She remembered vividly the day she had been first hired. Reginald Hargreeves was angry, he was furious that the children he had adopted were ordinary. She quickly took to her role, hushing the seven babies as Mr Hargreeves’ rage upset them. He hadn’t changed since that first day, except instead of keeping his anger bottled up inside him, he took it out on her and he took it out on the children.

“Good bye.” She whispered, before turning back to the children. “Who wants to go to the park?”

The children all cheered, instantly putting a smile on Grace’s face.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Grace lived by herself in a small apartment on the outskirts of town, before she found her job at the Umbrella Academy, and that evening she took the children back, on the bus. They were delighted, having only been out of the house, walking to the park or on the odd occasion, in Reginald’s car, the bus was a welcome treat. She tried to keep them all settled and quiet, but the excitement was growing and the seven children could hardly keep in their seats. Grace was left to smile, apologetically at the passengers on the bus. An older woman sat down next to her.

“I used to be a nanny when I was your age, too.” The woman said, smiling at the children.

“Oh, no. They’re all mine.” Grace smiled.

The woman looked confused, squinting at the children, taking in the different ethnicities and appearances.

“Adopted.” Grace added.

The woman nodded. “Seven is certainly a brave number.”

Grace nodded, politely.

“I only had two, and that was a handful.” The woman sighed.

“I can imagine.” Grace said, smiling at her children.

The bus came to a stop, the voice over the speaker system announcing their location.

“Oh, that’s us.” Grace said, standing up and smoothing out her dress. “Come on this is our stop, don’t forget your bags. Four, stop swinging on the handle. One, please let your brother go. Seven, where’s your violin?”

The children stopped their antics, jumping to their feet and following their mother off the bus, leaving the woman to ponder why the children were named after numbers.

  
  


* * *

  
If she thought taking the children on the bus was hard, Grace would have no idea how it would be trying to walk them through the busy city. They had only been walking for a few minutes when she felt a tug on her sleeve.

“Where’s Four?” Three asked, looking up at her mother. 

“What?” Grace asked, stopping in the middle of the street, ignoring the glares from the people passing by.

“Four.” Three prompted. “Where did he go?”

Grace swore, under her breath, looking up and seeing One and Two race ahead. 

“One! Two!” She called. “Come back, please!”

One and Two stopped, and turned around running back to their mother.

“Okay.” Grace said, trying not to show the panic in her voice. “I want you to all hold hands, and One, you’re going to hold onto this bench. We’re playing a game, if you let go you lose.”

The children all nodded, grabbing each other’s hands and standing in a line.

“Make sure you stay out of the way of people, okay?” Grace said, quickly. “Don’t move, I’ll be back shortly.”

She took off, glancing around, searching the crowds of people. 

Approaching a shop window, decorated with lights, she found Four. He was staring, mesmerised at the glittering lights.

“Four!” She gasped, putting a hand on the arm of her son. “You can’t run off, you’ve got to stay with the group.”

Four nodded, turning back to his mother. “I’m sorry, mum.”

Grace smiled, leaning down and wrapping him in a hug. “Come on, let’s go get the others.”

Four nodded, happily, taking his mother's hand.

They rushed back through the crowds, back to where she left the other children.

“Mum!” One cried as she approached, Four’s small hand clenched in her own. “Five let go, he lost the game.”

“No, I didn't.” Five argued, waving his hand, still joined with Seven’s, around. “Look, still holding.”

Seven shot him a sceptical look, betraying the lie.

Grace laughed. “Okay. We’re going to keep playing the game, you can’t let go. Four, you can join the chain.”

Four nodded, enthusiastically, grabbing Six’s hand.

“Alright, let’s go home.” Grace said.

“But home isn’t near here.” One said, furrowing his brow.

“Oh, we’re going to my house.” Grace said. “We’re having a sleepover!”

The children cheered, swinging their arms as Grace directed them through the busy streets.

* * *

  
  


They stopped out in front of a tall building, opening the doors and trailing inside. Grace smiled at the doorman as they entered.

“It’s nice to see you again, Grace.” He said. “We’ve had a few offers on your apartment.”

“Thanks for holding it.” Grace smiled. “I think I’ll be needing it quite a bit now.”

“So, this is where you’ve been, all these years?” He asked, nodding towards the children.

Grace nodded.

“Hi!” Three cried, enthusiastically. “I’m Three!”

“Three?” The doorman asked, raising his eyebrows. “Like the number?”

“Yeah.” Three grinned. 

The doorman looked at Grace in confusion.

“Dad didn’t want to name us properly.” Five said. “I’m Five.”

“Yes, well, we can fix that.” Grace said, reassuringly. “It’s getting late, let’s go to bed.”

“G’night, Grace.” The doorman said, still a little confused.

Grace smiled, steering the children towards the elevator. “Who wants to press the button?”

“What does the button do?” Six asked.

“It makes the elevator come, and then we press another button and it goes up.” Grace explained.

“What’s an ele-elevator?” Two asked.

Grace looked a little shocked, before recovering. “It’s a moving box and it takes you to different floors, it’s like a quicker version of stairs.”

The children gasped, happily.

“I wanna push the button!” Four cheered, moving forwards and hitting the up arrow.

“There’s another one inside.” Grace smiled.

The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open, and the children rushed inside.

“We have to push the button with the number three on it.” Grace explained, doing a quick headcount to ensure she hadn’t lost any of them.

“I’ll do it!” Three cried, pushing past her siblings and pressing the three.

The doors shut, and the elevator began to move upwards. The children's reactions ranged from Five’s confused face to Three’s happy squeal. Arriving at the third floor, the doors slid open and Grace hurried the children out. They walked down the corridor, chatting happily amongst themselves. Grace dug around in her pocket, pulling out the key and inserting it into the lock. The door swung open, the children shoving each other to get in. The apartment was small, with two bedrooms, a small living area, a bathroom, and a small kitchenette. 

“Here, come and put your things in this room.” Grace called, pointing to a door just off the side. The children rushed in, gasping as they saw the rows of bunk beds. Grace remembered the day she bought it, laughing to herself as she found the three sets of bunk beds. She never thought that she would have enough children to fill them.

“I call the top bunk!” Three cried, dropping her backpack and vaulting up the ladder.

“I want one too!” Four shouted, pushing through his siblings to throw his bag up on top of one. 

“I’m having the last one.” Five explained, scampering up the last ladder.

The others sighed, moving towards the bottom bunks. 

“Someone will have to sleep on the floor.” Grace said, apologetically. “I’ll get a mattress.”

The four remaining children glanced around at each, neither of them wanted to miss out on sleeping in a bunk bed. 

One sighed. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

The others' faces lit up.

“Thanks, One!” They cried, throwing their belongings on a bed each.

“Why don’t we have a hot cup of cocoa?” Grace asked, leading the children out of the room. “Come and sit on the couch and I’ll get us one.” 

The children nodded, happily, and began to wander out to the couch. Grace stood in the kitchen, her back to the children as she besides herself at the stove. She could hear the children’s frenzied chatter behind her.

“Move over, Two.”

“No, Four, stop, you’re on my leg.”

“Stop jumping. You’ll get in trouble, dad hates it when we jump on the couch.”

At that, Grace spun around, turning off the stove and making her way over to the children.

“You’re allowed to jump on the couch here, okay?” Grace said, quickly. “Your dad can’t see what you’re doing, he can’t boss you around and he can’t hurt you. He’s not going to be able do that ever again.”

“What do you mean?” Three asked, cocking her head.

“You’re going to live with me, here.” Grace said, carefully. “We’re not going back to your dad’s house.”

“Why not?” Two asked.

Grace knelt down in front of the couch. “It’ll make more sense when you're a bit older, but Mr Hargreeves, he wasn’t a very nice person. So, it’ll be nicer for you to live here, with me.”

“Will we still get to see dad?” Four asked, quietly.

“No.” Grace said. “I’m sorry, but he might try and take you back.”

“That’s okay.” Five said, rather happily. “I don’t want to see him, ever again.”

“Yeah, he was really mean.” Seven agreed. “And I like bunk beds.”

One began to cry. “No, he wasn’t. He was nice.”

“He hit Five.” Six said. “And he tried to hit me and Seven.”

One shook his head, angrily.

Grace sighed, pulling him into a hug. “I’m very sorry, but I have to keep you safe.”

“But dad wasn’t bad, was he?” One asked, his eyes wide.

Grace didn’t respond, instead kept her arms around him. One’s cries began to quieten down and he pulled away, quietly rubbing the tears from his face. The pot of milk over on the stove began to bubble and Grace leapt up, rushing to the pot and twisting the stove off. She carefully pulled out eight mugs, pouring the milk into each and mixing in the chocolate powder. The children followed her over, each picking up a mug and carrying it carefully to the table.

“I know it’s a lot to take in.” Grace said, once everyone was seated. “But, I still have a few more things to show you.” She stood up, crossing the room to where her bag had been dropped, leaning down and pulling out the book of baby names.

“Tomorrow, we have to run a few errands, so we’d better get to sleep.” She said, placing the book on the table. “But, you might like to look through this book, and see if you’d like to pick out a name.”

“But we have names.” Six said, scrunching his forehead in confusion. “I’m Six, and that’s One, Three, Four, Two, Seven and Five.”

“Yes, but you might want a proper name.” Grace explained. “Like my name is Grace.”

“No.” Four said. “Your name is Mum.”

“You call me Mum, but my real name is Grace.” Grace explained, a small smile on her face.

The children looked shocked, shooting each other glances that said ‘can you believe this?’

“So we get to pick names?” Three asked, drawing the attention back to the book.

Grace nodded. “You can pick whatever you want, but remember that it’ll be your name for the rest of your life, so make sure it’s one you really want.”

The children nodded, happily. Four reached across the table, grabbing the book.

“Now, we’d better get to bed.” Grace said. “I’ll come and tuck you in soon.”

The children nodded, jumping up and racing each other into the room. 

“I’m going to read tonight.” Four cried, throwing the book onto his bunk and climbing up.

The children quickly clambered into their own beds, snuggling down under the thin covers.

Four opened the book up, beginning to read aloud. “10,000 Baby Names. Abigail.”

“Abigail is a nice name.” Three interrupted.

Four continued to read, the others sometimes interjecting when they heard a name they liked. When Grace came to tuck them in, she found the seven children already asleep, tired out from their day. She smiled, softly, leaning over to gently take the book out of Four’s hands. She had a feeling that tomorrow would be a good day.


	4. In which some child abduction occurs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter’s kind of short, sorry. I’ve been sick and then really unmotivated, so sorry for the late update. I don’t really know about this one, I’ve rewritten in about five different times, but eh, I hope it’s okay.
> 
> Thanks for holding out on this story (and if you’ve been reading my asoue one, I will get around to updating that as well.)
> 
> You guys rule.

**Chapter Four**

**In which some child abduction occurs**

To no ones, least of all Grace’s, surprise the children woke early, their excitement spreading through the entire apartment. The place seemed more alive, the grey walls seemed less drab and Grace, for the first time in a long time, felt really, truly happy. Instead of being annoyed when she was woken early, by the sounds of high pitched squealing and excited laughter, she was overjoyed, practically leaping out of bed to make breakfast. After her split second decision to get the children out, she only had time to get each of them a spare uniform so clothes shopping was the second item on her list of things to do. The first was to head down to the local police station, because she was fairly sure that you couldn’t just take seven kids and not have people notice, and it was probably also, slightly, only the tiniest bit, illegal.

After a hearty breakfast of eggs and bacon, to the children's delight, they walked out, back in the elevator, and down to the street. The streets were bustling, but it was easier to keep track of the children in the daytime.

“Mum.” Two asked. “Where are we go-going?”

“We’ve got a bit of shopping to do.” Grace said. “Then I’ve got to run a few errands.”

The children all nodded, turning back to the city's sights. 

* * *

  
  


The children had barely ever been out of the house, the furthest was to their local park or on the odd occasion they were allowed to spend a day out, so being able to walk freely in the city was an odd sensation. One, walking beside Three, felt as if he was doing something wrong, no matter how many times he was reassured that he _was allowed to be here,_ and that _he wasn’t going to get in trouble._ Three was just happy to be out, out of the house and in the exciting city.

“Are you absolutely sure we’re allowed to be out here?” One asked, looking at Three, nervously. “‘Cause dad might not like it.”

“Mum said we could.” Three said. “She also said that dad isn’t the boss of us anymore, so it doesn't matter if he likes it or not.”

“But—” One began, before being interrupted by Three.

“No, shh.” She said. “Stop being so grumpy. Look, I can step on the stones, but not the cracks.” She smiled, jumping from paver to paver, avoiding the cracks.

One laughed, following her, _step, step, hop, don’t trip, step, step, hop._

* * *

  
  


Four and Six were walking a little further behind.

“I think Alfred is a nice name.” Six said. “Or maybe Benjamin?”

Four hummed, thoughtfully.

“I think I read a book about a Benjamin.” Six continued. “Yeah, he was a rabbit.”

“A rabbit?” Four asked, sceptically. “Why would a rabbit have a name?”

“I don’t know.” Six shrugged. “It was a fantasy story, the rabbits talked and they wore jackets.”

“Why would rabbits talk or wear jackets?” Four asked.

“It was a book, Four.” Six sighed. “It wasn’t real.”

Four nodded, slowly. “Do you think mum will let us get a rabbit?”

“A rabbit couldn’t live in the apartment block.” Six said. “Rabbits need fresh air and they eat grass.”

“Yuck.” Four said, sticking out his tongue. “Why would anyone eat grass?”

Six shrugged. “Rabbits are weird.”

“If we get a rabbit, it won’t have to eat grass, ’coz Seven can just feed it her oatmeal.” Four explained. “It can sleep in my bed, I’ll just share with one of you and you can read it the book about talking rabbits.”

“I don’t think I brought it with me.” Six said, worriedly.

“Oh, that doesn’t matter.” Four said. “Just tell it the story.”

Six nodded. “What would we name it?”

“What was the name of the rabbit in your book?” Four asked.

“Benjamin.” Six said. “But there was another one named Peter.”

“Peter is a good name for a rabbit.” Four said, thoughtfully. 

Six smiled, nodding his agreement.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Just ahead of their mother, Two, Five and Seven walked, excitedly pointing out all of the city’s delights.

“Look! That lady's got a dog in her handbag!” Seven cried, pointing across the street.

“Don’t point.” Two said. “It’s rude.”

Seven made an apologetic face, dropping her arm. 

“I didn’t know benches could be round!” Five cried, running ahead, his siblings close behind.

“How did the tree get in the middle?” Two asked.

“The city’s really cool!” Seven cried, happily. “Look there’s televisions in the window!”

The three children shared a look, before taking off and running towards the shop window.

“And, in other news.” The newsreader was saying. “Reginald Hargreeves—”

“Dad!” Two gasped, before being shushed by Five who was straining his ears to listen to the news report.

“—seven children are missing. Local police have been alerted and photos are being released to the public in tonight’s report. Stay tuned for more.” The newsreader continued.

“What does that mean?” Seven asked. “We’re not missing, we're with mum.”

“Mum didn’t tell dad she was taking us.” Five said, slowly. “As far as the police are concerned, she kidnapped us.”

“But mum didn’t kid-kidnap us.” Two said, nervously. “Is sh-she g-go-going to be in tr-trouble?”

“No, no.” Five said, reassuringly, although he didn't sound too sure. “Mum will sort it all out.”

Seven bit her lip, worriedly, as their mother came up behind them, One and Three skipping alongside her. Five turned to show his mother the news report, but the scene had already changed. 

Six and Four caught up to them, pressing their faces against the glass. 

“Ooh!” Four cried. “Look, heely shoes like mum’s.”

“You can’t wear heely shoes.” Six explained. “That’s how you hurt yourself last time.”

“No, I hurt myself ‘coz I fell down the stairs.” Four said. “They’re aren’t any stairs in mum's apartment.”

Six sighed, releasing that his logic wasn’t going to change his brother's mind.

“Come along.” Grace said, placing her hands on Five and Four’s shoulders. “Let’s go inside!”

“Inside?” Three asked, looking up at her mother, her eyes wide. “We’re allowed inside?”

“Of course.” Grace smiled. “We’re going to get you some new clothes.”

“New clothes?” One gasped. “But dad never wanted us to wear anything except our uniforms.” He gestured to his siblings, all dressed in the identical uniforms, socks pulled up to their knees.

Grace sighed. “Remember what we talked about?”

The children nodded.

“Your dad can’t hurt you here. He’s not in charge of you, and we can do what we want.” Grace said.

“Can we have a rabbit?” Four asked, earnestly.

“A rabbit?” Grace asked, surprise evident in her face.

Four and Six nodded.

“Well, we’ll have to see.” Grace smiled. “Why don’t we go choose some clothes and we’ll talk about it later?”

“Okay, Mum.” Four said. 

“We’ve worked it all out.” Six said, excitedly, following his mother and siblings into the clothing store. “I know rabbits like eating grass, but me and Four think grass is gross, so we thought that it could eat all of Seven’s oatmeal, since she hates it.”

“That’s a good idea.” Seven nodded.

The children kept chattering away as they followed their mother into the store. They looked around, in awe, at all of the colours and fabrics, hung from racks all over the place.

“Hey! Look.”

“Isn’t that pretty?”

“Ooh!”

“Mum, can I try that one?”

The children’s excited chatter spilled over, growing louder and louder.

Grace clapped her hand to get their attention.

“We’re not going to split up, okay.” Grace instructed. “You have to be with another person at all times, and please try to stay with me.”

The children all nodded.

“And, if you do get split up, make sure you go to the counter and say you’re lost.” Grace explained. 

The children nodded again.

“Now, who wants to look where?”

  
  


* * *

  
  


The shopping trip went (mostly) to plan. Grace managed to keep an eye on all of the children, walking them through the aisles as they picked out items of clothing they liked. It was only when they moved towards the change rooms that things started to go south. Four, distracted by something, dragged Two off to go and look at it. By the time Grace had realised that two of the seven children were missing, they had reached the change rooms. 

“Right, you need to stay here, sit on this bench.” Grace instructed, quickly. “I’m going to find your brothers.”

“Okay, Mum.” Three said, dragging her siblings towards the bench and sitting down. 

Grace hurried off, making her way through the aisles, searching for the missing children.

“I’m going to help find them.” Five said, instantly standing up.

“No, Mum said to stay here.” Three said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, but we have to find them, or they’ll be lost.” Five said, reasonably.

“Mum will find them.” One said. “We have to stay here.”

“But what if Mum gets lost?” Seven asked, her eyes wide with worry.

“Mum won’t get lost.” Three said. “We have to stay here, don’t we, Six?”

“Maybe we should find them.” Six said, carefully.

“No!” One cried. “We’re staying here, I’m Number One so I’m in charge.”

“That’s not fair!” Six cried. “You aren’t in charge of us.”

Seven and Five nodded their agreement, and even Three looked like she disagreed.

“I’m going with Five.” Seven said. “It’s not fair, you don’t get to be the boss.”

“I’m coming too.” Six said, surprising himself, as he leapt up from the bench.

“No, guys.” Three said, quickly. “One didn’t mean it, you have to stay here.”

Her efforts were futile, as Five, Six and Seven disappeared around the corner.

She sighed, turning back to One, unhappily. “You aren’t in charge of us.” She snapped. “I’m only staying here ‘coz mum said too.”

One fiddled with the sleeve of his blazer uncomfortably as Three turned her back towards him.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


“Where do you think they went?” Seven asked, peering around the corner.

The three children had wandered off, looking for their brothers, but had quickly grown bored.

“I think we already checked here.” Five said. 

Oh, yeah, and they were pretty sure they were lost.

“Maybe we should have stayed with One and Three.” Six added.

“No, One, isn’t the boss.” Five said, defensively.

“Yeah, but mum is.” Seven said. “And she said to wait at the bench.”

The children’s faces fell as they realised what was happening.

“Mum’s going to be upset with us.” Six said.

“She’ll send us back to dad.” Seven whispered, her face ashen.

“No, no.” Five said, nervously. “She won’t.”

“But she’ll be angry.” Six said. “And when dad’s angry he hits us.”

“Will Mum hit us?” Seven asked, sounding scared.

“No.” Five said, rationally. “We didn’t do anything really bad, so we’ll probably just not get to eat for a day.”

“But what if she sends us back to dad?” Six asked, his eyes wide. 

“Dad doesn’t like us.” Seven said. “Especially you, Five.”

“He doesn’t like any of us.” Five argued.

“No, I think he likes One.” Six added. “And sometimes he’s nice to Three.”

“But he’ll still be mad about dinner last night.” Seven said. 

The children fell into worried silence.

“We have to get back to the bench.” Five said.

“We can ask at the counter.” Six suggested. “That’s what mum said to do if we get lost.”

“Where’s the counter?” Seven asked, standing on her tiptoes to see over the rack of clothing.

“Those people are watching us.” Six said, pointing to a man dressed in a suit holding an official looking briefcase and a woman, dressed in a dark coloured pantsuit. “Maybe we could ask them?”

“Good idea.” Five said. “They’re adults. So they’ll know what to do.”

The three children walked over to the man and the woman.

“Excuse me.” Seven said, politely. “Do you know where the counter is?”

“Are you lost?” The man asked, his voice deep.

The three children nodded.

“Mum told us to go to the counter if we got lost.” Six said.

“Your mother?” The woman asked.

The children nodded again.

“I see.” The man continued. “Follow us.”

The children did just that, walking quickly to keep up with they’re long strides.

“Shouldn’t the counter be in the shop?” Seven asked, sceptically, as they got closer and closer to the exit.

“You're right.” The woman said, turning around with an unnerving smile on his face. “But we’re not going to the counter.” 

The man reached out, grabbing Seven and Six’s shoulders, as they let out a cry. The woman grabbed onto Five’s arm, pulling him to her side.

“Let us go!” Five cried, kicking out at the woman.

“Stop!” Seven cried, trying to yank her arm out of the man’s grip,

Six began to cry, loudly, as they dragged the children out of the shop.

Just outside, parked in the street, was a black car, it’s sides sleek with polish. They dragged the children towards it, the woman opening the back door and throwing Five inside. He scrambled to his feet, crawling towards the open door, only to be pushed backwards as Seven and Six were thrown into the back seat. The man locked the back doors and casually walked around to the passenger seat, handing the keys to the woman. The three children moved to the windows, pounding on the glass and yanking on the door handles, shouting until their throats were hoarse. They saw their mother, rushing out of the store, their siblings behind her, and they cried out, desperately.

The woman climbed into the car, inserting the key and starting up the engine.

The children, realising they weren’t going to be able to escape through the windows, cowered back, grabbing each other's arms in fear.

“Let us go!” Seven cried.

“I’m afraid we can’t do that, sweetheart.” The man said.

“Mum knows we’re missing, she knows you took us and she’ll go to the police.” Six said, his eyes watering.

“We’re only rectifying her mistake.” The woman said, easing the car out of the parking space.

“What’re you doing with us?” Five asked, his voice shaking.

“We’re taking you home.” The man said.


	5. In which we meet a familiar face...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I finished off my other story and decided to work on this one, so here we are...

**Chapter Five**

**In which we meet a familiar face...**

  
The car trip was long, and if they were heading on a normal drive the three children, cowering in the corner on the backseat, would've gotten bored. But, it’s kind of hard to feel anything but scared when you’ve just been kidnapped.

Eventually, the car pulled up at the curb and the car door was opened. The man reached in, grabbing Six and Seven’s arms, and pulling them out of the car door. Five began to whimper, as he was left alone, but the woman quickly took the man’s place, yanking Five out of the car. Standing on the sidewalk, the children could finally see their surroundings. They were on the footpath, standing in a place they had stood many times before. They were standing outside their home.

“Why are we here?” Five snapped, trying to pull his arm out of the woman’s grip.

“Never you mind.” The woman answered, curtly.

The man and the woman started to walk towards the house, dragging the children with them.

“Help!” Seven cried. “Help!”

“Shut up.” The woman snarled.

“Help! Help us!” Six cried, realising what his sister was getting at.

In a split second movement, the woman reached into her pocket pulling out a small gun and holding it to Five’s head.

Six and Seven gasped, fearfully, instantly shutting up. Even through their sheltered childhood, they had still learnt about guns and the horrific effects they could have. Their father had shown them videos on the television set, of the triggers being pulled, blood pooling on the ground and the person, falling lifelessly to the ground.

Five began to cry, his body shaking with fear.

“Say one more word and I shoot.” She snarled, quietly.

“Maybe we shouldn’t—” The man began.

“He hired us to do this job.” The woman snapped. “And I don’t want to mess it up. Do you want to be out of a paycheck, yet again?”

“No.” The man sighed. “Let’s just get them inside.”

The woman nodded, curtly, and they marched the children up the stairs, into the house, through the all too familiar front door.

The entry was exactly as the children left it, neat and tidy, with the coats and shoes all in a line.

The children were dragged up the staircase, their shoes scuffing on the shiny wood. Once inside, the woman removed the gun, tucking it back into her pocket, but the children didn’t try to pull away, knowing she could pull it out any second. The woman, with her spare hand, knocked on the door of their fathers study and after a few beats, the doors opened.

Reginald Hargreeves stood in the doorway.

“Hazel. Cha-Cha.” He nodded to the children’s captors, before raking his eyes over the children, held tightly by their collars.

“Dad?” Six croaked, his voice wavering.

Reginald sighed as he glanced at the three children.

“I would’ve preferred Number One.” Reginald said, simply.

The woman, presumably Cha-Cha’s face hardened. “You said at least one of them, we got three. That’s extra pay for us.”

“I suppose it is.” Reginald sighed. “Very well, follow me.”

The children were jerked up again, dragging them after their father.

“Dad.” Six cried, again. “Dad?”

“Let go, you're hurting me!” Seven cried, trying to wrench her arm away from the man.

“What are you doing?” Five demanded. “Let us go home.”

“You are home.” Reginald snapped, turning towards the children, threateningly. “You live here. I have custody over you and I’ve just made a breakthrough with my testing. You’re not going anywhere.”

“What do you mean, testing?” Six asked.

“I mean.” Reginald said, slowly. “That you and your siblings might be more special than I thought.”

* * *

  
  
  
  
  


“Please, no, no. You can’t— no, I need you to listen to me. Don’t put me on hold, again. I need to—” Grace cried, desperately, Slamming the phone into the kitchen bench as the person on the other end flicked her over, elevator music drifting from its speakers. She swore under her breath, stalking to the entry, pulling on her coat and picking up her bag.

She headed through the apartment, opening the door of the children’s room. The four of them looked up, with tear stricken faces.

“Okay.” She said, trying to put on a brave face. “We’re going for a quick walk, then we’ll get your siblings back.”

Their faces all brightened at that.

“Quick, put your blazers on.” Grace said, a tone of urgency in her voice. “Make sure you’ve all got your sweaters on, as well.”

They all nodded, jumping up and tugging on their blazers before following their mother out of the apartment and down into the street.

This time, Grace made sure she could see all of them. Hugging Three and Four to her side as One and Two held onto the sides of her long dress, she hurried through the city.

Eventually, she arrived at the police station. After quieting the children down, she marched up to the front desk, slamming her palms onto the counter.

The policeman sitting behind it looked up, a bemused expression in his face.

“Yes, ma’am?” He said, before turning back around to whisper something to the little girl standing beside him.

“I need your help.” Grace said, desperately.

“Of course. I'm here to serve.” The policeman said. The little girl tugged on his sleeve, before whispering something and pointing towards the four children sitting on a row of benches. He turned back towards Grace. “You don’t mind if my daughter plays with your children, do you?”

“What?” Grace asked. “Oh, no, of course not.”

The man nodded, and the girl smiled, rushing over to the four children.

“Her mother was going to watch her, but then she had to pick up an extra shift, so she came with me. She’s been a little bored, so it’s nice that she can talk to someone her own age.” The man explained. “Now, what can I do for you?” 

“My children have been kidnapped.” Grace said.

The policeman’s face fell. “You should’ve led with that. Come into my office, and we’ll see what we can do.”

* * *

  
  


The girl with dark hair in a pretty braid came up to the children dressed in identical uniforms, their knee high socks caught up around their legs, sitting in a row on the plastic chairs.

“Who are you?” One asked, throwing a protective arm over Two, who batted him away.

“Eudora.” The girl said, quietly. “Eudora Patch.”

“Why are you here?” Four sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “Have your siblings been kidnapped too?”

“What?” Eudora asked, scrunching up her nose. “No. I’m an only child. I’m here with my daddy. He’s a police officer and I’m gonna be one too. Why, have your siblings been kidnapped?”

Three nodded her head, sadly, her dark curls bouncing. 

“Are you all siblings?” Eudora asked, looking around at the assortment of children on the bench in front of her.

Three nodded again. “We’re all the exact same age, too.”

“You don’t look very similar.” Eudora said. “And siblings are supposed to look similar.”

“How would you know?” Two asked, suspiciously. “You said you didn’t have any siblings.”

“I don’t.” Eudora said, glaring at him. “I’m just not stupid.”

“I’m not stupid either!” Two said, standing up, ready to fight her, but was pulled back by One.

Eudora ignored him, instead turning back to Three. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Three.” Three said, simply.

“Like the number?” Eudora asked.

Three nodded, pointing to all the children in turn. “And that’s Four, Two and One.”

“So who got kidnapped?” Eudora asked.

“Five, Six and Seven.” One said, kicking his legs as he spoke.

“Why are you named after numbers?” Eudora asked.

“That’s none of your business.” Two said, crossing his arms.

Eudora wrinkled her nose. “You're not very nice.”

“Stop being nosy.” Two retorted.

“Stop it, Two.” One said, elbowing his brother.

Two didn’t like that. He turned around, a scowl on his face and punched One’s arm. One retaliated by pushing him into Four.

“Stop it!” Four cried, as he was pushed. 

Two didn’t listen, instead launching himself at his brother and knocking him to the ground. 

“Oh, stop it you two.” Three cried. 

One and Two didn’t make any effort to get up, instead kept hitting each other.

“Stop!” Three and Four both cried, leaping up to pull them apart.

Three grabbed Two’s arm, stopping him from bringing it down into One’s face and dragged him back as Four yanked on One’s arm.

Eudora watched all this from her spot on the chair, a slightly amused, slightly interested look on her face.

As Three dragged Two back to the seats, she shot Eudora and apologetic look.

Four helped One back to his feet and then sat back in the seat that Two was in, and Three sat down next to him, separating One and Two, who kept glaring at each other.

“You're really good at fighting.” Eudora said, turning back to Two, her annoyance forgotten. “Can you teach me?”

Two looked back at her blankly.

“So I can be a policewoman.” She prompted. “Daddy said you have to be good at fighting and you are. I’ve watched it on the telly and they do it like that.”

Two’s face brightened. “I can throw things really well, too.”

Three and Four groaned, they knew that once he got started talking about his throwing skills he’d never stop.

“I’ll show you, Four, go stand over there.” Two said, excitedly, his stutter gone completely.

“No!” Four cried. “I’m not letting you throw things at me again, it hurts!”

“I’ll only throw something soft, like…” He paused for a moment, looking around the room. “Three’s scrunchie!”

“Fine.” Four said, getting up and standing along the far wall.

Two turned towards his sister, expectantly.

Three sighed, reaching up and pulling the scrunchie out of her hair and handing it to Two.

Eudora turned around to look, enthusiastically, as Two aimed the scrunchie at his brother, throwing his arm back and hurling it forwards.

To her surprise, it flew across the room, hitting Four.

Four picked up the scrunchie and ran back handing it to Three who struggled to put it back in.

“Woah.” Eudora said. “That was really good. Can you throw other things?”

Two nodded. “Once I threw One’s craft knife and it hit the dining table and dad was really mad.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.” One said, his anger at his brother showing.

Two shot him a scowl before turning back to Eudora as Four took the scrunchie back, tying it up in Three’s hair again.

“Do you think mum’s done yet?” Four asked, peering into the office.

“She’ll probably be out in a minute.” Eudora shrugged. “That’s what’s happened all day.”

Grace was out in a minute, but not in the way the children would have expected.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The man and the woman in the suits marched the children down the hallway and into an elevator that they didn’t even know existed.

“Where are we going, dad?” Six asked, looking up at his father.

“Somewhere special.” He answered and the children fell silent.

The elevator _dinged_ and the three children were dragged out.

“I can walk by myself!” Five snapped, trying to pull his arm away from the woman’s tight grip.

“Don’t let him.” Reginald said, coolly. “He’ll run away.”

“Dad!” Six whined. “I want to go back to Mum.”

“She is not your mother!” Reginald snapped. “I have custody over you, she has no rights.”

“She loves us!” Seven cried, kicking out at the man.

“And I don’t.” Reginald said, calmly, as they continued down the corridor.

The children fell silent as they were pulled down the dark corridor, the gravity of their fathers words sinking in.

They eventually came to a heavy looking door set into a plain concrete wall.

Reginald signalled to the man and woman, opening up the door so they could take the children inside.

The woman went up first, throwing Five into the dark room, knocking him to the ground. The man crossed over afterwards, gently pushing Six and Seven inside.

“Dad? Dad?” Six cried, as Reginald moved to shut the door.

“No, no!” Seven cried, rushing towards it and hitting in the Perspex glass.

“Let us out!” Five yelled, from his position on the floor.

The door shut, and the children’s cries for help were silenced. 

They watched as their father turned to speak to the man and woman, before leading them back out of the corridor and up through the elevator.

They looked around the small, cell like, room. It was dim, the only light was from the strip shining through the small window. The walls were lined with metal spikes, harsh and sharp looking. 

“What do we do?” Seven asked, her voice slightly hoarse from shouting.

“There’s nothing we can do.” Five said, furiously, kicking at the door. “Why would he lock us in here?”

“Stop kicking the door.” Seven said. “You’ll hurt your foot.”

Five stopped kicking at the door, instead sitting down, leaning up against it.

“Do you think mum will come and get us?” Five asked, as Seven and Six sank to the ground beside him.

“Yes.” Seven said, optimistically. “She said we wouldn't have to come back, so she’ll come rescue us.”

Five hummed thoughtfully.

“What did he mean when he said he’d been doing testing?” Seven asked.

Five shrugged. “I don’t know. He never makes any sense.”

They fell into a confused silence.

“Are you okay, Six?” Seven asked. “You’ve been very quiet.”

Six winced slightly. “My stomach hurts.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


“You said they’d been kidnapped?” The policeman said, pulling out a notepad and a ballpoint pen. “Could you give me their names, please?”

Grace nodded. “Five, Six and Seven Hargreeves.”

“Numbers?” The policeman clarified, confusion evident in his voice. “Alright. And where were they when they were taken?”

“We were at Myer, in town.” Grace explained. “Two of the others wandered off, and I left them on the bench while I went to find them. They must have walked off, because I spotted them being dragged out of the store.”

“Did you see who took them?”

Grace sighed. “Not really, but there were two of them, a man and a woman, I think.”

“Did you recognise anything else?”

Grace sighed again. “The car. It belonged to their father.”

“Are you separated now?” The policeman asked.

“That’s where it gets…complicated.” Grace explained, carefully. “I’m not their actual mother, I’m just the nanny. I’ve been looking after them since they were babies, and they call me ‘mother’.”

“So why were the children with you?”

“I… took them.” Grace said, quietly.

“I’m sorry?” The policeman asked, shock spreading over his face.

“He adopted them when they were young, they were all born in that freak accident, when the mothers were suddenly pregnant?” Grace explained. “He thought they’d have… superpowers. But they didn’t, they were ordinary children and he’d take his anger out on them. On the day we left, yesterday it was, he hit Five and threatened Six and Seven, those are the ones I think he’s taken.”

“So, he has custody of them?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t leave them there.” Grace explained, desperately. “He hit them.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but what you did technically counts as kidnapping.” The policeman explained.

Grace was at a loss for words. “But— he… he hit them! He didn’t even name them!”

The policeman only shrugged, standing up and pulling a pair of handcuffs from his belt.

“No— I… we…” Grace stammered, as the man locked the handcuffs over her wrists and led her out of the room.

The four children looked up as the door to the office opened, and their mother was led out, in handcuffs.

“What’s going on?” One asked, standing up quickly.

“We’re going to have to take your mother into custody.” The policeman said, gruffly.

“But why?” Three asked, at the same time as Four cried, “what about Five, Six and Seven?”

“Where will we go?” Two asked.

“It might be a little hard to explain why.” The policeman said, kindly. “We’ll look into finding your siblings, and in the meantime you can stay with me at my house.”

“Yay!” Eudora cheered. “You can teach me how to fight, Two!”

None of the children looked happy at that prospect.

  
  
  
  
  



	6. In which a game of twister is played

**Chapter Six**

**In which a game of twister is played**

“When will Mum take us home?” One asked.

They were sitting in the policeman’s car, One was sitting in the front seat, intensely questioning the police officer, while his siblings were squished into the backseat, beside the policeman’s daughter.

“We’ll have to sort a few things out, son.” The police officer replied, his eyes on the road.

“But, wi-wi-will she be in t-tr-trouble?” Two asked nervously, his stutter obvious.

“We won’t know for a little while, until she goes to court.” The policeman explained, kindly.

“You won’t take us back to dad, will you?” Four asked, grabbing Two and Three’s arms.

“No.” The police officer said. “You can stay at my house for a little while, until we find your siblings.”

“Will you find them?” Three asked, kicking her legs. “I miss them.”

The police officer fell silent for a moment, before taking a deep breath in. “We’ll do everything we can.”

* * *

  
  
  


“What do you mean your stomach hurts?” Five asked, curiously.

“It really hurts.” Six whimpered, curling his legs into his chest.

“Are you hungry?” Seven asked, nervously.

Six shook his head.

“Should we tell dad?” Seven asked, looking at Five.

Five shook his head. “He won’t do anything.”

“What can we do, then?” Seven asked, her eyes wide.

Five shrugged. “What does mum do when we’re sick?”

Seven paused for a moment, in thought. 

“She puts us to bed early.” Seven said, slowly. “Oh, and sometimes she gives us a pana… pana something.”

“Panadol?” Five asked, and Seven nodded, her bangs bouncing on her forehead. “We don’t have any Panadol.”

Seven looked nervously at her brother, who squirmed under her gaze.

Six began to shiver, violently.

“It’s cold.” He murmured, wrapping his arms around his legs.

Five and Seven shared a nervous glance. The small cell was at a comfortable temperature.

“Do you want my blazer?” Seven asked. “To put over your legs?”

Six nodded, slowly.

Seven stood up, shrugging it off and handing it to her brother.

Six took it, gratefully. “Thank you.” He murmured, wrapping it around his legs.

Five was inspecting the door. “Maybe we can kick it down.”

Seven shook her head. “You tried that before, and it looks really heavy.”

Five ignored her suggestion, instead he took a few steps back, staring down the door, a look of determination on his face.

Seven sighed, dragging Six out of his way and putting her hands on her hips.

“Don’t, Five.” She said.

Five waved her off, glancing up and down the metal door.

“Five.” Seven said, her voice taking on a warning tone.

Five took off, running as fast as he could towards the door, ignoring Seven’s shouts for him to stop.

He scrunched up his face, preparing for the impact of the door.

It didn’t come.

_It didn’t come!_

Seven watched, as Five ran towards the heavy, metal door, shouting at him to stop. 

He didn’t stop.

In a blink of an eye, there was a small flash of blue and he disappeared.

She glanced around the room, hurriedly.

“Five?” She called, running up to the door and peering through the small window. “Five?”

Her brother was gone.

Six looked up from his position on the floor, a worried look on his face. 

“Where’d Five go?” He asked, worry and confusion edging into his voice.

Seven, still peering out the small window, turned back to him.

“I don’t know.” She whispered, softly.

She moved back towards the door, peering through the small window into the dark corridor.

“How did he get out?” She whispered to herself, running her hands along the metal door. She was lost in her thoughts, and only turned back around when she heard Six scream.

And then she started to scream.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“And this is my room.” Eudora said, happily. “You can all sleep in here with me!”

Eudora had taken them all on a hurried tour of the house, showing them where the bathroom, the kitchen, the study, the front garden, the back porch and a few others were. The four children weren’t really listening, they were just traipsing behind their new friend, lost in their own thoughts.

One didn’t really understand what was happening. He missed his dad and siblings and just wanted to go home. In his opinion, instead of staying at this police man’s house, they should be back at home. He understood the legal system, from what he’d seen on the television, but he didn’t understand why his mum was back at the police station, handcuffs over her wrists. Shouldn’t they be finding the people who took his siblings?

Two missed his mum. He was really happy when she said they were having a sleepover at her apartment. They got to have hot chocolate and mum said they wouldn’t have to go back to their house, which he didn’t mind, ‘cause dad was mean and they weren’t allowed to have hot chocolate at home, then she said they got to pick names. Two hadn’t had much time to think about it, but he thought that having a name would be nice. And she had bunk beds, _bunk beds!_ But then they had gone shopping, which sounded exciting, but Four had dragged him off to look at a coat he liked and then they had gotten lost and when they finally found their way again, Five, Six and Seven were being bundled into a car and driven away. 

Three thought that Eudora Patch was a lovely girl, but she’d rather meet her under better circumstances. Her dad had hit her brother, so she was glad when they got to stay with their mum. But then her siblings were kidnapped and her mum was stuck wearing metal bracelets at the police station. Eudora was very interesting, and she wanted to be a police officer, which sounded like fun, but she’d rather be an actor, like the pretty women on the telly. As fun as that would be, she’d prefer to be back home with her family, right now.

Four hadn’t been listening the whole trip back. He really missed his siblings, especially Six, and now his mum was gone. And if this wasn’t enough, his head had started to hurt and he kept seeing glimpses and flashes at the sides of his vision. But when he asked Two about it, he said he hadn’t seen anything. So maybe he was going crazy? He didn’t think anyone would really mind too much.

Eudora’s cheerful voice pulled them from their thoughts.

“Dad said we were having pasta for dinner. Do you like pasta? It’s my favourite food.”

“We’ve never had pasta before.” Three said.

“Never?” Eudora asked, shocked.

Three nodded.

“It’s really good.” Eudora gushed, as she opened a door. “And this is the lounge room.”

The four children followed her in, glancing around the cozy looking room with cream coloured walls and dark brown couches. 

“And those are my books.” Eudora said, pointing towards a bookshelf. “Ooh, and here’s a picture of me on my first day of kindergarten!” She picked up a small, handmade frame, colourful feathers stuck all over it, and showed it off.

“What’s kindergarten?” Four asked, scrunching up his nose as he looked at the picture.

“Don’t you go to school?” Eudora asked, sitting back on the couch and crossing her legs. “But why are you wearing a uniform then?”

“Oh, these are just our normal clothes.” One explained. “And we don’t go to school, we learn at home.”

“Oh, so homeschooling.” Eudora said. “But why do you just wear uniforms?”

Two shrugged. “That’s just what dad gave us to wear.”

Eudora wrinkled her nose. “That’s weird.”

Two stepped forwards, a scowl on his face, but was elbowed back by Three.

“Do you want to play a game?” Eudora asked, changing the subject as she glanced around the room. “We’ve got twister or cluedo or monopoly or…”

“What’s twister?” Three asked.

“It’s the game with all the colourful dots, when you have to be really flexible.” Eudora explained. “Here, I’ll show you.” 

She climbed over the back of the couch, jumping onto the soft carpet and pulling out the box. She spread the sheet out over the floor and placed the spinner next to it. 

“See, you spin this…” Eudora reached over to spin the spinner. “Left foot, yellow. So I put my left foot on a yellow dot.” She stuck out her left foot, stepping on a yellow circle. “And now it’s your turn, Three.”

Three stepped forwards, spinning the spinner. “Right hand, red.” She read, stepping forwards and placing her right hand on the red circle. She giggled, slightly. “This is fun!”

“And it gets better.” Eudora grinned. “When you have to be all twisted up!”

Three smiled, looking over at her brothers. “Your turn, One!”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Five wasn’t sure what happened. One moment he was running towards the door, Seven’s words echoing in his ears, and the next he was blinking in the sun, outside the house, his feet leaving footprints in the long grass.

He looked around, turning in a slow circle, as he took in his surroundings. His mind was whirring, how was it possible for him to be trapped in a cell, deep underground and then be outside in the garden, less than a millisecond later. It shouldn’t be possible. So why was it?

He had to get back to his siblings. Maybe he could get them out, or should go and get help? Maybe he should go back and find his mum and siblings? Or the police? Mum said to go to the police if they got lost. But if he was in the yard, then his siblings were just inside, he should help them first.

It was simple, just in and out.

In the house he’s lived in all his life.

He could do that.

Couldn’t he?

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Seven really wished the room wasn’t soundproof. Because now she was probably going to die and no one was going to hear, no one was coming to save her.

When Six screamed, she turned around quickly, only to see something she wished she could forget. Instead, she screamed too.

There were tentacles, similar to those found on an octopus, protruding from Six’s stomach. _From her brother's stomach._

And then they were coming towards her, and she was screaming and he was screaming and _something was happening._ Because this isn’t right _and somethings not right._

Because, first Five disappeared and now Six has tentacles and now she’s going to die and they’ll just be the six Hargreeves children, and there’ll be no more number seven, _because she’s going to die._

And then one of the tentacles grabbed her, and held her in the air, and she screamed even louder, and Six was screaming and she was crying and Six was crying and _she was going to die_ because another one was coming towards her, and she was _going to die_ because it grabbed her leg, and she was screaming and Six was screaming and then she was crying and Six was crying _and now it was too loud_ and there was more screaming and Six fell backwards, and she was jolted into the wall, _and it really hurt_ and the metal rang out through the room _and now it was too loud again_ but it didn’t really matter _because she was going to die_ and then Six screamed even louder, as another tentacle sprang forwards and _it was too much it was too much and it was too much and it was too much._

There was a loud crashing noise, and a wave of blue energy flew out from her body.

And then everything stopped.

And then the tentacles dropped her.

And they disappeared, back into Six’s stomach.

She sat on the ground, shivering and panting as she tried to catch her breath, nervously looking up at Six, from across the room.

Six looked back at her, his hands clamped over the rip in his sweater. His face was red and his hair was a mess.

Seven scrambled to her feet, stumbling across the cell to her brother, wrapping her arms around him and falling into his side.

Six didn’t say anything, only pressed himself into Seven and they sat in silence, arms wrapped around each other as they shivered in the cell, that now seemed a lot darker and colder, trying to wrap their heads around what had just happened.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The twister game went as well as expected.

It was enjoyable, until Four had to step underneath Two, who then had to lean backwards over One’s legs, but Three’s left foot was already there, so he had to move, which ended in him toppling into Eudora, knocking them both to the ground and out of the game.

One didn’t last much longer, as he had to lean sideways around Four, and his arm wasn’t quite long enough, so he fell onto the mat.

Four and Three lasted the longest, but eventually ended with Four, tripping over Three’s hand and hitting the mat.

Three was very happy to have won.

At dinner, they had pasta, which they all had to agree was very nice. But it wasn’t just the meal that was nice. First, Eudora’s mum told them all about her day at work, which was a little strange, but she was an adult, so it was probably okay, but then Eudora began to chatter about what she had done, and the drawing she did with her dad’s fancy pen. Which was strange. And even stranger, they were asked to speak. They were allowed to. Which was very strange, but nice. The happy chatter was refreshing, and was nothing like the strict silence they were forbidden to at home, whenever their father ate with them.

Despite the circumstances and the feeling of displacement, it was…nice.

* * *

  
  


Five scrambled up the fire escape, climbing as lightly as possible on the rickety ladder. Once up, he could clamber through the window and tiptoe down the staircase to the elevator, then it was just a short trip down, and he could just open the door, take them back upstairs, through the elevator, out the fire escape and go and find Mum.

It was easy, right?

Wrong.

He discovered, whilst tiptoeing down the staircase, that the man and the woman in the suits were still in the house. He could hear their hushed voices, along with his father’s in the study that they were forbidden to enter. If he was quiet, he could tiptoe past and be safe.

Unfortunately, six year olds are not as quiet as they think they might be.

Five was making his way down the staircase, his scuffed shoes tapping lightly on the hardwood floor, as he headed towards one of the guest bedrooms, where he knew the elevator was hidden.

As he made his way past the office, he held his breath, nervously glancing at the slight crack in the door. 

With his gaze fixed on the door, he didn’t notice the way the rug slightly turned up on the corner.

At least, not until he tripped on it, landing sprawled on the dusty floor with a _thump_. The voices in the office stopped immediately, and footsteps came towards the door, as Five scrambled to his feet, his heart racing.

Reginald stuck his head out of the office, growling as he saw Five, standing weakly in the hallway.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing out here?” He snarled, stalking forwards and grabbing onto the boy's collar, pulling him close to his face.

Five flinched at the movement, leaning as far away as he could, whilst kicking out at his father.

“I don’t know how you got out, but you’re going straight back in.” Reginald snarled.

“Let me go!” Five cried.

“Fat chance.” Reginald growled, as the woman and man moved out through the door and stood beside him. Reginald turned to them, shoving Five into the man’s arms. “We’ll take him back down.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


The heavy metal door swung open, and Seven and Six looked up, blinking in the light. Five was thrown in, and he stumbled, trying to regain his balance as the door slammed shut again.

As he turned to look at his siblings, still crouched on the floor, his eyes began to water, and there was a glimmer of a bruise under his eye.

He fell to his knees beside his siblings and they all began to cry.


	7. In which we learn a little about ‘superpowers’

**Chapter Seven**

**In which we learn a little about ‘superpowers’**

They got pancakes for breakfast. They only got pancakes on their birthdays, or on really special occasions.

“And because it’s a Saturday we have pancakes.” Eudora explained, as they made their way down the staircase. “And I think mum bought some maple syrup and strawberries.”

They all brightened considerably at the prospect of maple syrup.

“Are lessons starting later today?” One asked, curiously, as he ran his hand along the dark banister.

“What lessons?” Eudora asked, turning back to face him, a frown on her face.

“Our studies.” One prompted, glancing back at his siblings who were looking equally confused.

“What studies?” Eudora asked again. “It’s a Saturday.”

“Yeah.” Two said, joining his brother on the staircase. “So we have to do all our assignments today.”

“No, we don’t.” Eudora said. “It’s a Saturday.”

“But free time is only between 12 and 12:30.” Three said, brushing a curl from her face. 

Eudora shook her head, confused. “No, school is on Mondays until Fridays.”

“But what do you do on the other days, then?” Four asked, curiously.

“Whatever I want.” Eudora said simply. “This weekend I was going to wash my doll’s hair, but now you're here we can play together!”

The four children glanced at each other, before One shrugged and continued down the staircase, the others close on his heels.

Normal people were weird.

  
  


* * *

  
  


When Five had first arrived back, it only took a few moments before he burst into tears. They sat together, pressed into each other’s sides as the temperature in the small cell dropped, sniffling slightly.

“Where did you go, Five?” Seven croaked, after a long while.

Five took a moment before answering. “Outside.”

“How?” Six asked, his arms still crossed over the gaping hole in his sweater.

“I don’t know.” Five sounded scared.

They lapsed back into silence.

“What happened to your sweater, Six?” Five asked, after a few minutes.

Six shuddered, pressing his legs closer to his chest and remaining silent.

Seven tried to answer. “There was… they… like an octopus, but not… it was scary.”

It was clear that Five didn’t understand, but he didn’t press the matter any further.

“Did you hit your face on the door?” Six asked, eventually, looking at the purple welt on Five’s cheekbone.

Five shook his head, slowly. “Dad…”

Seven and Six looked at him, expectantly. 

“He hit me…”

Seven gasped, and she felt Six tense up beside her.

“Because you got out?” She asked, quietly.

Five shook his head again. “‘Cause I tried to rescue you...”

That was all it took. 

Six moved from his curled over position and wrapped his arms around Five, as Seven slung her arm over his shoulder.

“When I went outside…” Five began, his voice breaking slightly. “I-I, I didn’t walk there. I just opened my eyes and I was out there.”

“When you left there was a flash of blue.” Seven said, slowly, shutting her eyes as she tried to remember. “And then you were gone.”

“Then what happened?” Five asked, slowly.

“And then I was trying to work out where you’d gone and… and…” Seven trailed off.

“And then… it was like… tentacles.” Six said, flinching slightly as he spoke.

“What do you mean?” Five whispered, his eyes big.

“From his stomach.” Seven added, helpfully. 

“And… and… they tried to hurt Seven.” Six finished, his whole body shaking as he lowered his voice. “Tried to kill her.”

Five’s eyes widened as Seven flinched back a little.

“And then it got really loud, it was too loud.” Seven said, scrunching up her face. “And then there was, it was like… a wave, and then everything stopped.”

“Then you came back.” Six finished. 

“What’s happening to us?” Five asked, his voice small.

Six and Seven didn’t respond, instead shivering slightly.

“When will mum come and get us?” Seven asked, the question echoing around the small room.

“Maybe she won’t.” Six said, slowly.

“Don’t say that!” Seven cried, hitting Six’s shoulder. “Mum will come and get us. She will.”

They all fell silent, still shivering in the cold cell as they sat close together.

“I’m hungry.” Five said, breaking the silence. 

“Do you think dad will feed us?” Six asked.

“He has to.” Seven said.

Five nodded. “And water, we can’t survive long without it.”

“Are we going to die?” Seven asked, her eyes wide.

Six shook his head, vigorously. “Dad won’t let us.”

“Don’t call him that.” Five said, quickly.

“What? Dad?” Six said, obviously confused.

Five nodded again. “Dad’s don’t lock up their kids.”

“Isn’t he our dad?” Seven asked.

“No.” Five said. “Not properly, anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Six asked, curiously.

“He only adopted us.” Five scowled. “And he’s mean so I’m not calling him Dad.”

“What will you call him?” Six asked.

“What’s his name?” Five asked.

“Reginald.” Seven murmured. “I read it in the newspaper.”

“Why was he in the newspaper?” Six asked.

“Something about adopting us.” Seven shrugged. “I don’t really remember it.”

“Did it say anything important?” Five asked, his scowl gone, replaced with a determined look.

“Uh…” Seven paused. “Something like our actual mum’s weren’t pregnant before they gave birth.”

“What?” Six asked.

Seven sighed. “Like, they weren’t pregnant at the start of the day, only when they actually gave birth.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense.” Five furrowed his brow.

Seven shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s just what I read.”

“But, maybe…” Five started, standing up and pacing the room. “If that’s… it could explain… but, no… oh…”

“What?” Six exclaimed, still sitting on the floor next to Seven.

“Maybe that’s why I did the disappearing thing!” Five exclaimed. “And the tentacles and the wave thing. Maybe we’re really special.”

Seven gasped, sharply. “That’s what dad, sorry Reginald, said, before. When he first captured us!”

“I’m going to try the door thing again.” Five said, determinedly.

Seven and Six smiled at him, encouragingly as they scooted out of the way.

Five stepped back, before staring down the door and sprinting forwards…

… straight into the metal door.

He crumpled to the ground with a cry.

Seven and Six both screamed, rushing forwards, towards him.

Seven reached him first, dropping to her knees and pulling her brother up, by his shoulders, to lay his head in her lap.

Five didn’t react, his body limp and his eyes shut.

“Is he breathing?” Six asked, panic rising in his voice.

Seven lifted her hand to his wrist, feeling for a pulse as Six put his hand over his brother's mouth.

“He’s breathing.” Six said, sighing in relief.

“And I can feel a pulse.” Seven added.

“What do we do?” Six asked.

“I don’t know.” Seven said, quietly.

“He might have a concussion, when he wakes up.” Six suggested. 

“What do you do to treat a concussion?” Seven asked.

“You have to wait until he wakes up.” Six said, scrunching up his face as he tried to remember. “And then we need to… make sure he doesn’t choke in his own vomit?”

“That’s the recovery position, right?” Seven asked.

Six nodded.

“So what? We just wait?” Seven asked, and Six nodded again.

“And make sure he keeps breathing, and that we can still feel a pulse, and, oh, we’d better make sure he doesn’t get too cold.” Six added.

“He can have my blazer.” Seven sighed, peeling it off.

“Are you sure?” Six asked. “You only just put it back on, maybe I should, so it’s fair.”

Seven shook her head. “Your sweater’s all ripped, and mine’s still okay.”

Six nodded slightly, in agreement. “Thanks.”

Seven shrugged, as she shifted slightly under Five’s head, laying her blazer over the top of him. Six moved around to sit on the other side of their brother.

“Besides, I have to look after my stupid baby brothers.” Seven smiled, slightly.

“Hey!” Six whined, crossing his arms defensively. “We're the same age.”

“I thought you’d object to the ‘stupid’ bit.” Seven said.

Six shrugged. “I mean, Five did just run straight into a metal door. On purpose.”

“Fair.” Seven grinned. “But maybe we can all be a bit stupid.”

“I hope you're talking about One.” Six said.

“Oh, I’m definitely talking about One.” Seven smiled, softly.

They fell silent, for a moment.

“I miss them.” Six sighed.

“So do I.” Seven sighed, shooting her brother a sympathetic glance. “But at least we’re not stuck in a cell with Four.”

“Oh, he would have run into that door in the first three minutes.” Six agreed.

They both smiled, slightly, as they waited for their brother to come around again.


	8. In which Four reveals a skill and training begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I’m back again, and I’m super sorry that it took me almost a month to get going with this again, I honestly have no other excuse than, I kind of suck, but hey, it’s here.
> 
> (Also, thank you guys, so much, for 100+ kudos!)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Five came to, slowly, his eyes fluttering as he glanced around the room. Seven and Six could tell the exact moment he realised where he was, as he curled in on himself and shivered slightly.

“Hey, Five.” Six said, quietly, as his brother tried to sit up.

Seven pushed his shoulders back down. “Don’t sit up, you’ll just hurt yourself.”

“Head hurts.” Five groans, as he wraps his arms around himself.

“Yeah, I know.” Six said, softly. “That’s ’cause you ran into the door.”

Five groaned again, placing his hands up over his eyes and rolling onto his side.

“Sorry,” Seven said, wincing apologetically, “we don’t have any headache medicine.” 

Five sighed, wrapping Seven’s blazer more tightly around him.

“It’s cold.”

“I know.” Seven said, quietly. 

“I want to go home.” Five whimpers, his voice breaking. 

“I know.” Six said, echoing his sister. “I want to go home, too.”

Seven slowly nodded her agreement, her fringe flopping into her eyes. “So do I.”

They sat in silence, wallowing in their misery and shivering in the cold weather. 

The door flung open, hitting against the spiked wall with a loud bang. They looked up, their heads snapping towards the door, and shrunk back into each other as they saw who had entered.

Reginald Hargreeves.

Six and Seven, still sitting around Five, grabbed both of his arms, and pulled him to a sitting position. He groaned, as his head spun, but allowed them to pull him backwards.

Reginald didn’t say anything, instead watched them with a bemused expression on his face. “Hello, children.”

They didn’t respond, instead glared back at him, arms still entangled.

“Get up.” Reginald snapped. “We have places to be, and we’ll be late.”

“We’re not going anywhere with you!” Five cried, and Six and Seven hissed at him to stop.

Reginald growled, as he strode across the room to where the children were cowering. “You will come with me, and I’d prefer it if you came willingly, because I don’t want to have to spend any more money hiring those fools.”

Six and Seven glanced at each other, quickly, before standing up, dragging Five up with them.

“Okay, fine.” Seven said, quietly. “But you have to promise not to hit us.”

“I don’t have to make any deals with you.” Reginald smiled, a smug menacing grin, and held the door open and they made their way out of the small cell, Five limping between them.

“Where are we going?” Six asked, nervously.

“You’ll see when we get there.” Reginald said, curtly.

“So, dad said you can come to school with me tomorrow.” Eudora was sitting cross legged on her bed, already dressed in her deep blue pyjamas, with big yellow stars, looking down at the four children, wearing their academy issued, blue and flannel nightclothes, small umbrellas stitched into the right breast pocket, sitting on the air mattresses on the floor.

“School?” One asked, quickly. “Why?”

“‘Cause it’ll be Monday.” Eudora explained. “And mum and dad have to work, so you can come with me to school.”

“Okay.” Three said. “What do you do at school?”

“You learn things.” Eudora said. “And I can introduce you to my friends, and now we’ll have enough people to play a proper game of chasings.”

“Do you get to play games?” Four asked. 

Eudora nodded, happily. “At recess and lunchtimes, and sometimes if we’re in sport or if we’re having a learning break.”

“How many other people will be there?” One asked, suspiciously.

“Lots.” Eudora said. “Oh, and dad said that he talked to Mr Smith, he’s my teacher, and he said that you don’t need to wear uniforms and that you can just wear your blazer things.”

“That’s cool.” Two said. “Is school fun?”

“Well, it was better last year, ‘cause we got to do fun things more often, but it’s not too bad, and we get to do handwriting exercises now, and I like those.” Eudora explained. “Do you think you could plait my hair like yours, Three? For tomorrow?”

“I didn’t braid it.” Three said. “Four did it.”

“I can do it again tomorrow!” Four volunteered, looking at his sister. “But only if you promise to paint my nails.”

“I don’t have my nail polish, Four.” Three sighed.

“You can borrow mine.” Eudora said. “My aunt gave it to me for Christmas last year and I haven’t used it.”

Four grinned. “Okay, then. I’ll braid your hair, tomorrow, then. Do you want one or two?”

Eudora considered it for a moment. “Two, please.”

Four nodded.

There was a heavy set of footsteps on the staircase, and Eudora’s father stuck his head through the doorframe. “You’d better all hop into bed. I’ll have to take you early to school tomorrow.”

“Okay, dad!” Eudora grinned, as she pulled back her covers and wriggled underneath them. She leant out an arm and flicked on the bedside lamp, as her father turned the main light off. 

“Good night.” He said, in his gruff and commanding, yet loving and gentle voice.

“‘Night!” Eudora called, cheerfully, as the Hargreeves children mimicked her.

He smiled at them, before shutting the door and heading off down the corridor, his heavy footsteps receding.

The Patch household was rather small, and really couldn’t, comfortably, accommodate four extra children, but they managed. They managed to drag out air mattresses, spare double duvets and a couple of flat pillows. The Hargreeves children didn’t mind, though, despite the circumstances, they thought it was wonderful.

One and Two, sharing one of the blow up mattresses, spent a while fighting over ‘stop, you’ve got enough blanket’ and ‘ow, get off my arm,’ but eventually settled down.

On the other mattress, shoved right against the first one, Three and Four lay. They had settled down without too many complaints, even though Four was too clingy and ‘it’s too hot, get off me, Four’.

“Good night.” Eudora said, as she flicked off the light.

“Good night.” Three parroted back, before rolling on her side, facing away from Four, who kept trying to whisper things to her.

They fell into a restless sleep, worrying about their siblings and their mother, and the ever impending doom of school tomorrow.

Reginald had marched them back down the long corridor, and up through the elevator, into yet another room they had never seen. It was big and empty, with shiny wooden floors and every sound echoed around the walls. The room was entirely empty, except for a row of three plastic chairs and a mahogany table, a row of wine glasses sitting along it.

As soon as they were inside, he locked the door and directed them to a row of plastic chairs. They sat down, Five in the middle, still holding onto each other’s hands.

Reginald stood opposite, sneering down his nose at them. “Your performances in a controlled environment were as expected.”

They looked blankly back at him, fear flashing in their eyes. 

“I watched the security tapes.” Reginald continued. “And, I knew my observations were correct, if I had known that all I had to do was lock you up, I would have done it years ago.”

They whimpered, scraping their chairs closer to one another.

“And now, I’ve got you alone, and we can finally begin testing.” Reginald continued. “Number Six, we shall begin with you.”

Six whimpered, and Seven gripped the side of his blazer, in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture.

“You will summon Them.” Reginald ordered, as he gripped his cane and readjusted his monocle.

Six moaned slightly. “I- I don’t know how, dad, I’m sorry, it was an accident, I don’t know how I—”

“Nonsense, Number Six.” Reginald snapped, interrupting his nervous rambling. “With such a negative mindset, of course you are bound to fail. Get up, stop your pathetic snivelling and do as I ask.”

Six, still shaking slightly, thought back to what had happened when They had first appeared. His stomach had been hurting, he remembered that, but it wasn’t hurting now.

Are you there? Six asked, inside his head, even though it felt like a stupid geusture. Can you come out? Please? I need you to come out, otherwise dad will hurt me, us, you, please.

There wasn’t a response, and Six cursed himself for his stupidity. He turned back to his father, almost in tears.

“I can’t— I, I’m sorry, I don’t know how.”

Reginald sighed, a deep disappointed sigh. “Very well. I will continue to confine you and your siblings to the cell, as you refused to behave.”

Six gasped. “No, no. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, please don’t.”

“Enough.” Reginald snapped, pointing back to the plastic chairs. 

“No, please.” Six begged. “It wasn’t their fault, don’t punish them, it was me, I’m sorry.”

Reginald only shook his head, and refused to say anything more on the matter as he pointed at Seven. “Your turn.”

Seven whimpered quietly, as she slowly stepped forwards.

Reginald stood up, and moved to the other side of the room, where the table and all of the glasses stood. He beckoned to her and she shuffled her way over, nervously glancing over her shoulder at her brothers as she went.

Reginald dug around in his pocket, producing a tuning fork. He hit it onto the side of the table, and the sound rang out around the room. All three children winced. 

“Concentrate, Number Seven.” He snapped, as she continued to glance around the room.

She concentrated, snapping her attention back to her father. 

“I want you to break a glass.” 

She narrowed her eyes, concentrating hard on the metallic ringing and the wine glass, in the very middle of the row. 

After a moment, it exploded.

Seven stepped back, slightly, shocked.

Reginald only raised an eyebrow as he replaced the broken glass. “Again.”

She did it again. He replaced the glass.

“Again.”

She did it again. He replaced the glass.

“Again.”

She did it again. He replaced the glass.

“Again.”

She was sick of this. 

Seven narrowed her eyes again, concentrating on all of the glasses, and the sound of the tuning fork, still ringing in her ears.

They all smashed, exploding in a loud cacophony. Reginald’s monocle also cracked, a single shard of glass cutting into the flesh under his eye, a small trickle of red escaping down his cheek.

Seven gasped, stepping back and surveying what she’d done. “I- I… sorry. It was an accident, I— sorry.”

Reginald’s mouth turned up in a snarl. “Sit back down. Number Five, you shall be next.”

“No!” Six and Seven said, despite their exhaustion, at the same time. 

“He’s injured, you can’t make him do anything!” Six argued.

“I can, and I will.” Reginald snapped. “Don’t argue with me, or I will increase your punishments.”

Six and Seven shrunk back in their seats, as Reginald grabbed Five’s arm and pulled him to his side.

“It was a very clever trick you pulled.” Reginald sneered. “And now, you are going to teleport over to the other side of this room.”

Five shook his head. “I don’t know how, I can’t, can't do it.”

Reginald fixed his hard stare onto him, and backed away, waiting.

Five stood in the middle of the room, his eyes darting back and forth, searching for an exit.

There wasn’t one, and Reginald was still waiting, waiting and waiting and wait—

Five took a deep breath and concentrated hard on the spot of flooring across the room. He shut his eyes tightly and clenched his fists by his sides.

There was a flash of blue, and he was there, on the bit of flooring. He’d done it.

But his legs were shaky, and he couldn’t breathe properly. He collapsed to his knees on the hard ground, and, out of the corner of his eye, saw his siblings getting to their feet and rushing over to him.

But then they stopped, as Reginald snapped something at them.

“Try it again.” Reginald snapped, turning back to Five, banging his cane onto the wooden floors.

“I can’t.” Five whimpered, his legs shaky beneath him. “Please dad, I can’t.”

“Try again.” Reginald repeated, through his teeth.

Five could sense the angry warning in his voice, so he did, getting to his feet and phasing himself across the room, again and again and again and again and again, until he couldn’t even support his own weight.

That was when Reginald gave up, and told him to “stop being such a wimp, if he knew what was good for him,” so he staggered to his feet, his vision blurry, and somehow managed to find his way back to the plastic chairs, collapsing into an empty one, and squeezing his eyes closed again.

He could feel someone’s hands on his arm, and he could hear voices calling his name, but he didn’t have enough strength left to acknowledge whoever it was. He only curled in on himself and lay his head on the arm of his chair. He might have gone to sleep, he wasn’t really sure.

The next time he woke up, they were back in the cell, and he could feel the warmth of his siblings bodies, on either side of him. They were asleep too, and Five was still exhausted so he lay his head back down and drifted into a fitful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment?


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